


Right Now

by MyChemicalRachel



Series: Right Here, Right Now [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie is in a coma, Getting Together, M/M, buck is christopher's godfather, more tags will be added as i update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalRachel/pseuds/MyChemicalRachel
Summary: When Eddie had asked Buck to be Christopher’s godfather, he said it was a precaution, just a way of knowing that Chris would be taken care of if anything happened.It was supposed to be a safety net. A contingency plan. It was never supposed to be real.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Right Here, Right Now [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731556
Comments: 20
Kudos: 174





	1. The Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first unplanned multi-chapter fic in a long time, and my first long fic in the 9-1-1 fandom! I'll be posting the chapters as I write them, so there is no update schedule; you'll get a new chapter when I've managed to write one. I do have a life and a short attention span, so sometimes it might take awhile. Please don't use the comment section to yell at me-- I'm trying my best.
> 
> This is a follow-up to my fic Right Here, but can be read as a standalone.

After the ladder truck incident, Buck thought he could say with a great amount of certainty that he knew pain. His leg had been crushed-- it was touch and go for a while whether he would even keep it-- and the pain of not just that moment, lying helpless under the truck, but the many moments that followed were more than just physically painful. They were terrifying. More terror than he had ever known.

And then he’d lost Christopher in the tsunami and Buck understood a different kind of pain, watching his best friend think, however briefly, that his son had been swept away with the waves. Gone forever.

Still, nothing in his life ever prepared him for the sight of Eddie lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He was breathing with the help of a cold machine, a tube disappearing down his throat. It was only until he could breathe by himself, Hen had carefully reminded Buck.

If he ever woke up, that is.

Buck decidedly did not cry. His eyes brimmed red and watery, but he couldn’t allow the tears to start, in fear that they might never stop. He stands against the wall, arms hugged tightly to his chest, and watches as Athena swoops in, stoic as ever, to get a succinct report from the doctors; they’d been adamant up until that point that nothing could be disclosed unless they were family. Though he had faced Athena’s wrath many times and knew the effect it had, the fact that she was still in her police uniform probably added to the doctor’s hesitation to follow standard protocol.

“You see these people?” Athena asks, waving a finger in the direction of Buck and Bobby. “They are his family. You want blood relation? His next of kin is a nine-year-old boy. Should I bring him in, let you explain to him that his dad is in a coma?”

Buck closes his eyes. He cant cry. He can’t cry. He can’t--

“Buck?”

He opens his eyes to find Bobby in front of him. His face is blurry behind a cloud of tears.

Dammit. So much for not crying.

“Come on,” Bobby says. It’s his Captain Nash voice; the one he usually reserves for field missions and when someone is in trouble. The one that left no room for argument. And Buck is certainly in no position to argue.

Bobby leads him out of the room-- for a moment he fears he’s being taken back to the waiting room, but he’s not sure he could stand the idea of having this breakdown in a room full of strangers. Thankfully, Bobby finds a line of chairs near the vacant nurse’s station and sits Buck down. He keeps a hand tight on Buck’s wrist, like if he let’s go Buck will run.

Run back into Eddie’s room.

Run through the front doors and far, far away from all of this.

“Buck, you gotta calm down.”

Nothing about this was calm. If there was one perfect time in his life to have a full blown meltdown, he’s pretty certain this is it.

“Eddie’s going to be okay, Buck.”

A sob catches in his throat and he bitterly chokes it down. “You don’t know that.”

“He’s a fighter,” Bobby says and the grip on his arm tightens just a bit. “Look, he’s been in trouble before--”

“Not like this,” Buck interjects.

“--and he always makes it through.”

“Bobby.” Buck sits up, turning to face the older man. The man he’d always looked up to, trusted, believed. Now, he sees the uncertainty in Bobby’s eyes. The fact that he’s not even sure he believes what he’s saying.

Still, there’s a sense of resolve when he says, “Athena will get all of the information from the doctors.” This, at least, they both know is true.

“And then?” Buck asks. The tears he had sworn to withhold are running free down his cheeks. He doesn’t even attempt to stop them, just wipes at them with the sleeve of his shirt. It still smells like fire and a fresh wave of grief and guilt floods him. “Bobby, what if--”

“No,” Bobby says. “Buck, do not go there, okay? Eddie is going to wake up.”

_And what if he doesn’t?_

Buck can’t form he words, but the mere thought of them has him sinking back into the chair. He wants nothing more than to rush back in to Eddie’s side, and yet something holds him in place. A terror beyond anything he’s ever felt-- the fear of _what if._

What if Eddie doesn’t wake up?

What if he’s dying?

What if he’s already dead?

Athena approaches them with caution a few minutes later and Buck immediately stands, prepared for the worst, though she’s smart enough to start with, “Everything is fine.”

A thousand questions pop into Buck’s head and he reaches out, grasping for which one to ask first. He wants to know just how badly Eddie’s hurt, when they expect him to wake up… and yet, the first words out of his mouth are, “Can I see him again?”

Athena sighs, glancing at Bobby, then she nods.

Back in Eddie’s room, Buck forgoes a chair in favor of hovering near the head of the bed. The machines beep too loud in his ears, but he finds comfort in the sound. It means that Eddie is alive.

He reaches out for Eddie’s hand, pressing their palms together. He squeezes and is foolish enough to expect some sort of gesture in return.

“He was right behind me,” Buck says. His grip on Eddie’s hand tightens. “You asshole.” He swipes aggressively at the tears that assault his vision. “You were right behind me.”

A hand settles on his shoulder and Buck looks up to see Athena watching him. Her usually commanding demeanor is slipping, leaving him with a glimpse of the woman he so rarely sees when she’s in uniform; not a cop, but a friend. A concerned person with a heart that hurts, and whether it aches for him or for Eddie he’s unsure.

“What happened?” she asks.

Buck laughs. The sound is wet and sad. “It was a fire in an apartment,” he explains. “Everyone else had already cleared out, but we had to be thorough. We were checking the last room when we got the evac order. And he was right behind me. There was a beam-- I didn’t see it coming down until it was too late.”

“Buck,” Athena says in a motherly voice. “You know that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

He bites down too hard on his lip. “I could have saved him,” Buck argues. “I could have-- I don’t know. I could have pushed him out of the way, or warned him, or--”

“You did save him,” Bobby interrupts. “Buck, you carried him out of there. You got him to the ambulance. You saved his life.”

Buck looks down at Eddie. His chest rises and falls in time with the machine. It doesn’t feel like he saved anything.

“They’ll take him off the ventilator soon,” Athena informs them. She keeps her eyes trained on Buck. “Right now, the biggest concern is his head. They’re not sure yet the extent of the injury, but his brain was swollen and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.”

“When will he wake up?”

“They’ve induced a coma to reduce the swelling.” Now she shrugs, a gesture both worrying for obvious reasons, and comforting because Buck knows that she’s being completely honest; she’s not handling him with kid gloves or trying to sugar coat the truth. It’s something he appreciates. “Right now, he just needs time.”

Time.

Buck wants to laugh, but he’s afraid he might just end up crying again.

“Buck, there’s something else.”

He looks up to find Bobby frowning.

“A few months ago, you and Eddie signed those papers that named you Christopher’s godfather.”

Buck nods, anticipating where this is going. He recalls, like a distant nightmare, when he had to tell Eddie that Christopher had been lost in the tsunami. And now he’s going to have to tell Christopher that his dad is in a coma. Still, he nods because he knows that, even without the legal aspect, it’s his responsibility. He wouldn't trust anyone else. “Yeah, I’ll tell Chris.”

“Well… it’s not just that,” Bobby explains. “Buck, Eddie isn’t in a position to take care of Christopher at the moment. That leaves you.”

“What?”

“You’re his godfather.”

“Yeah,” Buck remembers that conversation distinctly; how Eddie had come to his apartment after being buried alive, how he’d practically begged Buck to agree to care for his son if anything happened to him. But this isn’t what they had talked about. “No, that’s only if Eddie dies. And you just said--”

“He’s not dying, Buck,” says Bobby, while Athena says, “Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?” his gaze bounces between them like a pinball, waiting for either of them to elaborate. Eventually he lands on Athena. “What do you mean _not exactly_ _?_ ”

“When you signed the papers, you agreed to take care of Chris if Eddie dies or is--” she pauses to cast a sad look at Eddie, “--incapacitated.”

Incapacitated. Like a coma.

“So you’re saying that, starting now, I’m Christopher’s legal guardian?”

When Eddie had asked him to be Christopher’s godfather, he said it was a precaution, just a way of knowing that Chris would be taken care of if anything happened.

It was supposed to be a safety net. A contingency plan. It was never supposed to be real.

And yet, staring down at Eddie, the emotions that swell in Buck’s chest are very real. The IVs, the ventilator, the bandage on his head, are all real and Buck isn’t sure how to comprehend that. 

“I have to go,” Buck says suddenly. It takes all of his willpower to let go of Eddie’s hand, but he focuses on what he has to do now. With a glance at his watch, he realizes he’s been here longer than he thought. He’s already running late. “Carla’s probably wondering why Eddie’s not home by now, and I have to go to the station to change before I can go over. I need to call Isabel and Pepa, and--”

“Buck.”

Buck stops.

“Let me give you a ride,” Athena says gently.

But Buck is already shaking his head. “No. No, I have to do this. I can do this.” He very carefully doesn’t look at either of them. He pats down his pockets. “Bobby, I can’t find my keys.”

“They’re at the station,” Bobby tells him, “with your Jeep. You rode here in the ambulance.”

Right. Buck remembers that. He looks back at Eddie.

_This can’t be real._

Because if it’s real, then there is a real chance that Eddie won’t wake up. There’s a real chance that Eddie will die here in this hospital bed.

“Bobby,” Buck says. His voice cracks, as does his resolve, and he finds himself trembling. “I can’t do this.”

“Not by yourself,” Athena agrees and wraps him in a hug-- he’s so much bigger than her, and yet in that moment he’s never felt smaller. He leans on her, letting her take some of the weight he’s feeling in his chest. Her hands make circles on his back, a soothing gesture that Maddie used to do when he was younger. It helps him breathe. “This is overwhelming and it’s too much for anyone to handle alone. But you’re not doing this alone.”

Over her shoulder, Buck can see Bobby already pulling the phone from his pocket. “I will call Carla to let her know what’s going on and see if she can stay with Christopher a little longer, then I will call Isabel and Pepa and tell them everything. You--” he points the phone in Buck’s direction, “need to shower and change. Athena will take you back to the station. You need to calm down and collect yourself before you see Christopher. If you’re a wreck, it’s going to scare him.”

As Athena leads him away, Buck looks back in time to see Bobby collapse into the chair next to Eddie’s bed. The phone is still in his hand, but he makes no move to call anyone. Instead, he starts to cry.

In that moment, that fleeting glimpse of Bobby when he thought Buck was out of sight, Buck thinks he understands; Bobby didn’t have it all together. He wasn’t calm or collected. He was pretending because that’s what Buck needed to see.

And now, as Christopher’s godfather, he knows what he needs to do. It doesn’t matter how terrified Buck is feeling, that he’s reeling with guilt and worry and anguish. He has to push all of those emotions down and be strong for Chris. Right now, that was the only thing that mattered.


	2. The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm sorry this chapter took a month to write. I have no excuse.

Time doesn’t stop for accidents.

That’s what his dad used to say. Sometimes they were words grumbled irritably, or sighed, or shouted. It didn’t make much sense to Buck at the time. It was just one of those things parents say, like “raining cats and dogs” or “it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

_ Time doesn’t stop for accidents. _

“It means that the world doesn’t stop turning just because you made a mistake,” Maddie had patiently explained to him once. “Accidents happen, but life goes on. It means you have to just keep going.”

Time had certainly felt frozen within the confines of the hospital, but as soon as they step outside, the bright light of day hits Buck and he realizes that while he had been inside with Eddie, the world had been spinning without them.

And still now, it turns around him.

The ride of the firehouse passes in silence, but inside Buck’s head there is anything but quiet. He wonders what the hell he’s going to say to Christopher.

He needs to be honest, as honest as possible, but reassuring. Though his own thoughts and fears are screaming a thousand what ifs, Buck knows he has to push those down and remain optimistic. More than just for Chris, but for himself. He doesn’t want to imagine the dark places his mind will go if he allows it.

When Athena pulls the cruiser to a stop next to Buck’s jeep outside the station, she turns the car off but neither of them moves to get out.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says.

Athena nods. “You need me to wait?” she asks. “I can take you to Eddie’s.”

The word yes is on the tip of his tongue. There’s a part of Buck that wants to scream it. He wants to push all of this off onto someone else, make it someone else’s responsibility, someone else’s problem.

Eventually he says no, because he knows that if he accepts the ride, she’ll offer to come inside with him. She’ll offer to break the news to Chris. She’ll offer anything he needs.

And he’s afraid he just might take it.

A slim hand reaches across the small space to rest on his arm; it’s smaller than his, but it feels so much stronger.

“You call me if you need anything,” she tells him.

He nods.

“Buck,” she says, and waits until he looks up at her. Then she repeats, “Anything. I’m serious.”

He swallows down the emotions clawing at his throat again. “Thanks, Athena.”

And then he flees the car before she can offer anything else. Already, it feels like she’s given so much.

One of the trucks is out, for which Buck is thankful because it means half the crew is gone. He can see the rest upstairs in the kitchen, can hear the crack of balls knocking together on the pool table, and someone distantly laughs at an unheard joke.

He wonders if anyone told them about Eddie, but realizes that it doesn’t matter. He knows their names and faces, has worked beside them on occasion, but the people here aren’t his family, not like his own team is. Hen and Chimney are probably already back at home, recuperating from a long shift, maybe making plans to visit Eddie again in a day or two. Buck knows already that he’ll be making the trip again tonight.

The showers are empty; another small blessing Buck is ready to take for granted. He turns the water as hot as he can stand and lets it pour over him, staining his skin a furious red.

He wishes he could stop time, rewind it, save Eddie from ever putting him in this position, because as scared as he is right now, he’s also pissed. At Eddie, at himself. He feels like a bomb and when he explodes, it’ll endanger anyone standing too close.

It was unfair of Eddie to ask him to be Christopher’s godfather in the first place. As much as he loves Chris, would do anything for him, he feels helpless. During the tsunami, with the water all around them, Buck’s instincts had kicked in. They had told him to grab Christopher, to not let go, to hold him as tight as he could.

But this… this is so different. There are no instincts for this. He’s not sure he’s strong enough to hold Chris together, no matter how tight he holds.

At the time, signing the papers to become Christopher’s legal guardian in an emergency was a safety net. But now it didn’t feel like a net; it felt like a noose.

“Fuck!” Buck yells and before he can even think, his fist is flashing forward and connecting with the wall. A speck of blood shines on the tile and he looks down to see the split on his knuckle. It washes away in the spray of the shower, and with it his anger seems to disappear.

None of this is fair. Not the fact that Eddie might die, that Chris might lose his only remaining parent, that Buck has to be the one to tell him. It’s not fair that Buck might lose his best friend. He wants to scream and yet his chest feels so tight he can barely breathe.

It takes a few more minutes before Buck can bring himself to leave the shower, and a few minutes longer to put on his spare clothes. The smell of smoke still seems to linger in his nose.

The entire drive to the Diaz house, Buck tries again to think of what he might say. He grapples with all of the usual condolences, but quickly pushes them aside when they all sound fake coming from his mouth. By the time he’s stopping the Jeep next to Carla’s minivan, Buck is no closer to a plan than he was an hour ago.

Then again, Buck has always done his best work diving in blind and making it up as he goes along.

He lets himself in with the spare key Eddie had given him long ago. It’s well worn, hanging snugly next to the key for his own apartment, but this time the metal feels heavier in his hand. The sound of quiet voices leads Buck toward the kitchen and as he nears he can smell something tomatoey wafting over from the stove. He realizes he hasn’t eaten since this morning, but the smell of it just makes his stomach churn.

Christopher is leaning back in a chair at the kitchen table, a yellow pencil in his hand that he waves around to accentuate whatever point he’s currently trying to make. He’s so like Eddie in that way, always talking with his hands. Carla sits opposite him, her chin resting on her hand, listening intently.

There’s a small smile on her face that freezes when she looks up, spotting Buck. It’s a miracle he thinks that she manages to keep it at all, though it turns stiff.

Christopher notices and twists around in his seat. “Hey dad,” he says, but the words die on his lips. A smile stretches across his face and Buck’s heart breaks just a little bit more. “Buck!” he exclaims. He starts to grab his crutches, but Buck steps closer.

He runs his fingers through Christopher’s curls, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Hey, buddy.”

Carla catches Buck’s gaze and quickly stands. “I made some spaghetti,” she says. “Chris has already eaten, but it can be warmed up easy peasy for later on.” She makes her way around the table and Buck has a brief moment’s worry that she’s going to offer to stay, and then he’ll say yes. But she simply says, “I guess I should be heading home. Call me if you need anything.”

And just like that, Buck and Christopher are alone. Carefully, Buck sits down opposite Chris. All the time he spent trying to figure out a good way to say this and still, Buck is empty-handed. He has no idea where to start or end.

Christopher swings his legs under the table and asks, “Is Dad here yet? I wanted to show him the grade I got on my math test. Look.” He shoves a paper toward Buck, a gleaming red A+ on the top. Buck feels pride and dread swell in his chest. He braces himself.

“You know what your dad and I do for a living, right?” Buck asks. “Being a firefighter, all the stuff it entails.”

Christopher nods and settles Buck with a dumb look. “You fight fires. It’s in the name.”

Buck laughs. “Yeah, that’s right, buddy. And, you know, you’ve learned about fires. How dangerous they can be.”

Again Christopher just nods.

Buck hates himself, every single cell in his body, for having to tell Chris this.

“Well today, something happened at work. Your dad got hurt.”

There’s a silence as Buck lets Christopher process this. The pencil in his hand falls to the table. Tears swell behind his glasses and Christopher’s shoulders start to shake. “Daddy’s dead?”

_ Shit. _

“No!” Buck moves quickly around the table, scooping Chris up in his arms, pulling him into his lap. Shit shit shit. He definitely should have started with that. “Chris, buddy, no. Your daddy is okay. He’s not dead. I’m so sorry I made you think that. No, he’s alive, Christopher.” He is the absolute worst person in the universe. He rocks Christopher back and forth.

He holds Chris until the crying calms down and he asks, through hiccupped breaths, “He’s okay?”

“Yes,” Buck says, “yes, he is okay. I promise you, your dad is okay.”

Buck wants to rewind time, he wants to try all of this again and make it better, make it right. But time doesn’t stop for accidents and it certainly doesn’t rewind. He holds Christopher closer to his chest.

“Where is he?” Christopher asks. “I want to see him.”

“Of course,” Buck says, because this, at least, he expected. “We can go see him. He’s in the hospital right now. But buddy,” he shifts the boy on his lap, trying to look at him and really make sure he understands what Buck is about to say. “Do you know what a coma is?”

Christopher shakes his head. His cheeks are as red as his glasses and his eyes still glimmer with tears.

“A coma is when the body goes to sleep so that it can focus on healing itself. Right now, your dad is asleep so that his body can focus all of its energy on him getting better.”

Christopher sniffles and seems to accept this. “How long will he be asleep for?”

Buck curses the tears that prick at his vision, the lump that arises in his throat. “I don’t know,” he admits.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?”

A part of Buck wants to be angry, another piece sad, but overall he can’t blame Christopher for wondering because he had been asking the same fucking question this entire time.

Now, he pushes all of those doubts and fears he had aside. He musters up all of the strength he has to look into Christopher’s big brown eyes that look so much like his father’s. “You and your dad are the two strongest people I know,” he says. “I know that he’s going to do everything he can to come back to you because he loves you more than anything in the world. And you… well, you’re Superman, right?”

Christopher looks doubtful, but he nods slowly. “I’m Superman.” Then he raises his arms to return Buck’s hug and says, “You’re strong, too.”

He chuckles and tries not to cry. He needs to be strong for Christopher, but right now, he’s not sure he’s ever felt weaker.


End file.
